


A Little Adventure Before Breakfast

by the_welsh_woman



Category: Enola Holmes (2020), Henry Cavill - Fandom, Henry!Holmes - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: Cock Warming, Dominant Henry Cavill, F/M, Generous Lover, Lap Sex, Top Sherlock, Vaginal Sex, sherlock dominant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_welsh_woman/pseuds/the_welsh_woman
Summary: So you think you can handle it? Or will you give in to him.Explicit, sex, cock-warming, lusty foreplay, Soft Dom Sherlock, marital bliss, dripping smut. Very loose continuation of 'Fisticuffs'. Part of a very loose marital bliss series.
Relationships: Reader Insert - Relationship, Sherlock Holmes X Reader, henry cavill x reader - Relationship, henry cavill x you - Relationship, sherlock holmes x you
Comments: 4
Kudos: 212





	A Little Adventure Before Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Hi and thanks for reading. You can find me at thetaoofzoe on tumblr.

Morning sun was just beginning to brighten the edges of the closed bedroom curtains, but you were loathe to open your eyes as you didn’t want to be distracted from your current endeavours.

The shoulder you were lying on was just beginning to ache and a fat bead of sweat slipped carelessly down across your naked breasts. 

Biting down on your lower lip, you groaned and squeezed your muscles around the thick hot quiescent cock that was nestled deep inside you. Sherlock’s warm breath gusted across your cheek when he gasped in response and then clutched your soft breast which he’d been intently exploring.

You felt him go rigid against your back, obviously taking a moment to compose himself, before his hands started roaming your breasts and belly again. The two of you have been engaging in this form of tortuous foreplay that was intended to be just that, the play to get the juices flowing, when you foolishly, albeit teasingly, challenged the quality of his sexual stamina.

And, Sherlock was not a man who backed down from an excellent provocation, no matter how teasing.

‘You… you’re trying to d-distract me,’ he moaned softly, lightly nipping the back of your neck and shifting so that you could feel the soft brush of the hair on his broad chest across the backs of your shoulders.

Warm fingers pinched and rolled your nipple whilst the other stroked your belly right above your crisp nether hair and the touch of his fingers sent a riot of tiny explosions through you. You felt heat combusting into a lusty inferno between your spread legs and taking in a quick breath, you redoubled your efforts to withstand his wily charms as you arched, to lock your leg back over his muscular thigh.

‘You are going to give,’ you taunted, squeezing again and laughing breathlessly with affect when Sherlock shuddered and whined helplessly.

But, you were the one who was taken by surprise and who nearly lost control of yourself when those strong fingers, quite unfairly, slid across your wet cunt and teased your plump little clit from the moist folds. You squealed shamelessly, toes curling and one hand scratching against the mattress, and the other digging fingernails into his forearm for purchase. Sherlock clamped his arm round your waist and held you tight to him, carefully beating back his excruciating desire to thrust hard and fast into your sweet willing body.

With his lips pressed against the nape of your neck, he remained still and let you wriggle about like a captured wild animal, jerking yourself up and down on his cock, fucking yourself, wordlessly begging him for what you refused to ask.

‘Do you yield to me?!’ he growled, already at the frayed end of his rope, as the rise of dark possessive emotions crept up his spine.

The dam broke and you came with a long wordless cry, your body sweat slick and quivering still greedily sucking him in, consuming him. With a rough desperate moan, Sherlock turned, pushed you onto your belly and held you down with one hand planted between your heaving shoulders as you shuddered and keened and clutched at the bed as your orgasm continued to devour you.

‘I yield,’ you sighed happily, giddy with satisfaction.

Leaning down, he rumbled hotly into your ear, ‘Ah, but I’m not done with you yet.’

Opening your eyes wide with shock upon hearing the fervour and promise in his voice, you let out a startled yet excited cry when he dragged you backwards, flipped over and hauled you effortlessly onto his lap again. You worked yourself eagerly into the place where you belonged, glad to be filled by him again.

Being upright in his arms like this, even in the privacy of your bedroom seemed unbearably illicit. It was that same feeling of arousal and vulnerability you’d experienced, when you were poking about in a dusty antique book at the back of a curiosity shop, several loose hand-coloured panels illustrating scenes of strangers making love in unique positions had unexpectedly spilled out into your hand. It had taken you a moment to recognise what you were looking at, but when the realisation dawned, your world tilted, throwing you into a turmoil you had been delighted to suffer.

Sherlock brought your thoughts back to the present as he kissed you and opened you, and held you so close that you feared the later loss of his strong arms around you, would cause you to go mad with unquenched desire.

There was something so delicious about being this close to Sherlock’s powerful body and about being the sole witness and the devotee of his perfect imperfections. He made you feel soft and delicate and had earned your trust so that you knew he would not to mishandle the masculine dominance he had over you.

But instead of trying to parse your emotions for your husband, you clung to him, and kissed him and relished the fire he poured inside you as you surrendered to him. Sherlock knew exactly how to please you. He knew how to touch you and position his own slow, deep thrusts to make his beautiful and clever wife swear and come apart in his embrace like a delectably fallen woman.

Later, when you lay panting by his side and gazing up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help laughing.

‘I’ve… forgotten what I was teasing you about. What was it?’

‘Hmmm,’ he said, but didn’t elaborate enough to answer your question.

‘All right then,’ you murmured, turning to drape yourself over him. ‘Have your secrets.’

Sherlock chuckled softly and wrapped his arms round you.


End file.
